Bluster, Bloodshed, and the Bench: Duterte Before The Hague
The distance between Manila and The Hague is measured not only in kilometres but in the weight of history now pressing down on former Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte. In the austere chambers of the International Criminal Court (ICC), pre-trial proceedings have begun to determine whether the charges of crimes against humanity against him will proceed to full trial — a legal and political spectacle that would have been unthinkable in the rough-and-tumble world of Philippine strongman politics only a decade ago.
The prosecution alleges that Duterte played a central role in killings linked to anti-drug operations carried out between 2013 and 2018, from his time as mayor of Davao City to his presidency. ICC Prosecutor Mame Mandiaye Niang told the chamber that Duterte’s contribution to the alleged campaign was decisive.
“His contribution was essential as he was at the very heart of the common plan to neutralize alleged criminals in the Philippines, including through murders,” Niang said in his opening statement.
Niang further alleged that Duterte personally identified some targets and provided moral, financial, and logistical support for operations that resulted in victims being “brutally murdered.”
“Unlike Mr. Duterte, who is represented by his counsel here today, they were deprived of any form of due process. The loss of every single one of these victims had the most profound impact on their families, their friends, and ultimately their communities,” he said.
“Bring a sense of justice.”
Representing the victims, Joel Butuyan expressed disappointment at the decision allowing Duterte to be absent during the confirmation of charges hearing.
“We communicate the very deep disappointment of the victims at the decision allowing Rodrigo Duterte not to be present in this stage of confirmation of charges,” Butuyan said. “In fact, if Mr. Duterte could threaten to slap the judges of this Court [the ICC], imagine the kind of terror-filled threats and the violent actions that can easily be used against the victims if the suspect walks free from this Court.”
Duterte’s defence team, however, urged the ICC’s Pre-Trial Chamber I to dismiss the charges, which they described as “grievously misplaced” and “politically-motivated.” His counsel, Nicholas Kaufman, acknowledged Duterte as “a unique phenomenon” who was “gung-ho in his ways” and prone to “hyperbole, bluster and rhetoric,” but insisted that his speeches did not amount to criminal intent.
“… We hope that when you conclude your deliberations, Your Honors, that you’ll dismiss these grievously misplaced and politically motivated charges. We will ask you to send Rodrigo Duterte back to his family, and we will ask you to give back to the Filipino people their Tatay Digong,” Kaufman said.
He maintained that Duterte’s rhetoric was intended to instil fear in criminals rather than to order killings. “Rodrigo Duterte’s language was aimed not at suspected drug pushers, as the prosecution would have it, but directly at those poisoning society with their substances, and not, I stress, with lethal intent. His rhetoric was calculated to arouse fear and obedience… Nothing more, nothing less. That was his intent, and it was not criminal. He stands by his legacy resolutely, and he maintains his innocence absolutely.”
Kaufman further argued that prosecutors had failed to produce any cooperating witness who could confirm that Duterte personally issued an order to kill. “Gung-ho in his ways and with a belligerent tone, he spoke the tough tongue of the street. He said what the people wanted to hear, but he said it in a way that offended the sensibilities of world leaders unaccustomed to hearing it. One in particular, and that was what set him on the slippery slope to a prison cell in The Hague.”
Outside the courtroom, however, some observers contend that the defence’s strategy has so far leaned more heavily on political framing than on legal rebuttal. They argue that Kaufman’s opening remarks appeared to mirror Duterte’s familiar rhetorical posture — criticising victims’ advocates and human rights organisations — while offering limited substantive challenge to the prosecution’s allegations.
In their assessment, Kaufman’s statement read less like a legal defence than a political tribute, reinforcing the perception that Duterte’s team faces an uphill battle as the proceedings move forward.
The ICC’s judges must now determine whether the evidence presented meets the threshold required for trial. Their decision will shape not only Duterte’s legal fate but also the broader question of how far domestic political authority extends when weighed against the demands of international justice.
For Manila — and for a watching world — the proceedings represent a deeply confrontational and polarising moment, laden with consequences that may yet redefine the boundaries of law, justice, power and accountability.